Men and Monkeys
The hawthorn lane was full of flower;
Across the hedge, the apple-trees
Sent down with every gust of breeze
A light, loose-petalled blossom-shower.
The wide green edges of the lane
Were filmed with kedlock-flowers, and white
Archangels tall, the bees' delight.
Sprang lustier for the morning's rain.
The scent of May was heavy-sweet;
The noon poured down upon the land.
The nightingales on either hand
Called, and were silent in the heat.
The herds, the flowers, the nightingales
All drowsed; and I upon the edge
Of grass beneath the flowering hedge
Lay dreaming of its shoots and trails.
When, starting at the sound of feet,
I saw the Italian vagrants pass ;
The monkey, man, and peasant-lass.
Who figure on our village street—
260
